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Perhaps she might even find Rose.
The guard looked at them suspiciously, and Cora looked away, walking quickly on, not wanting to make him suspicious. She'd seen enough; she knew what was there and what they needed to do. As she and Gabe rounded the corner, her mind was working fast, coming up with ideas and solutions and strategies.
She knew what they needed to do, what the best way would be. It wouldn't be easy, and it would be dangerous. But if they had the element of surprise, it might just work.
"Okay," she said to Gabe. "We're going in, and this is how we're doing it."
CHAPTER TWO
Cora waited, flattened against the wall, feeling her body calm yet coiled, prepared for what was to come. For explosive effort when the time was right. She was used to this prequel to action. She'd waited in a hundred different places for a hundred possible courses of action to play out over the years.
Waiting in the corner of an alleyway in Paris, hoping that she'd get to free her enslaved sister, was new to her.
She and Gabe had gone all the way around the block and sneaked back here to hide out of sight as close to this brothel as they could get and wait for the right opportunity. She knew it would come along, and probably soon. She was waiting for something specific, and until then, they had to be patient.
This mattered more than anything, she knew. This was deeply personal. She had to subdue the feelings of dread and rage that swirled inside of her. There would be time soon to let her emotions out.
Now, she had to focus calmly on the situation, and only that.
"I can hear something," she muttered. "Sounds like footsteps coming this way."
"I hear them, too," Gabe said. He was waiting, flattened against the wall, next to her.
"We'll go as soon as it opens. Now, get ready,” she whispered.
The footsteps approached, louder, clearer. Someone was heading to the door. A potential customer.
The steel barred door, with automatic access, was the spoke in the wheel of Cora's plans because she couldn't get through it. Given time, she could, of course, but not with that guard outside, and no tools in her possession, and also a cheap camera above the door that might or might not work, but she couldn't take the chance.
But now a customer was coming in, and that changed everything. Now, Cora could make her move.
She edged closer to the alleyway's mouth and listened intently. Muffled voices. Quiet mutters.
And then, the sound she'd been waiting for. The clang of the gate springing open.
That was the signal. She might only have a couple of seconds before it closed again, but it was hopefully all she needed, and Cora was going to use that time to its fullest.
She launched herself from her alleyway hiding place. Stormed around the corner. Boots clattering over the cobblestones, she raced up to where the security guard, with his back to her, was letting the client in.
Cora didn't hesitate. She tackled him with all her strength and leaped on him even as he began to turn around in surprise. She sent him sprawling forward. Knees and arms hit the cobblestones. Down and out was what she needed. She'd get one chance. She chopped at his neck, jumped to her feet, and kicked him in the head brutally hard while he was still on his hands and knees. He slumped down bonelessly.
The client, a furtive-looking man with a double chin and a bristly mustache, spun around in horror as Gabe wrenched the security door wide and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him back. He reeled away, colliding with the door pillar, and his forehead hit the stone with an audible thump. He fell to his knees, dazed, and briskly, Gabe began trussing his hands behind him.
Cora didn't have a gun. The paperwork involved in bringing her weapon here would have taken too long. But now, she was about to obtain a gun. Illegal, for sure. But a weapon, at least. She quickly stuck her hand into the guard's holster and removed the firearm, a battered Sig Sauer. She stuck it in her belt and then, lightning fast, they were in, racing through the narrow hall, with its musty smell and its scuffed carpet and its red chandelier with two missing bulbs. They had one chance only. One chance to get whoever was in here and destroy them.
They headed up the stairs, Cora's feet slamming on the wooden treads. The place stank, it was dirty, and they were keeping women prisoners there. Now was the time to let her anger flare. To turn it into action. To take them down.
On the second floor, she stopped, letting out an astonished breath. Here was another obstacle that she hadn't expected. A second locked gate, also steel barred. She seethed as she thought the reason for the bars was to keep the women in rather than anyone out.
The gates were the only new thing in the place. Everything else was falling apart. The gate was up to spec. It was strong, steel, thickly barred. She didn't even think a bullet could get through that lock. Already, from the next floor up, she could hear a commotion, a man's voice shouting, a woman screaming. And this gate was barring the way and stopping them in their tracks.
Or was it?
“Look there!” Sounding breathless, Gabe pointed to the side of the gate. And Cora saw what he had seen.
The gate was as solid as could be. But Gabe, the woodworker, the one who was the expert with his saw and hammer and nails - he'd seen the weak point. The ancient wooden doorframe. The wood was weathered and warped. Maybe they had a chance here, after all.
He gestured for Cora to stand back. And then, Gabe charged at the door, shoulder first, moving fast with all two hundred pounds of his solid muscle. He hit the door with all his force, and for a moment, it held. Then, as Gabe had anticipated, it tore away from the frame.
